Chapter 2

No sooner had Lady Leto left than I heard Apollo's voice coming from outside the estate.

I sat up a little straighter in bed, my heart suddenly pounding. I hadn't expected him to come here. Not after everything.

Eight years ago, he had hated me so much that he couldn't even stand to breathe the same air.

He had stood outside my door for three days straight, demanding answers. His voice still rang in my head, harsh and jagged, trembling with anger and heartache.

"Aria! Come out! Tell me why! Who is he? Who is the man you kissed by the river bank?"

I had watched him from my chamber window. He didn't sleep. He didn't eat. He just stood there, waiting.

On the third day, I finally went to the door. I didn't open it. I stood behind the wood and spoke through the crack.

"I have no love left for you, Apollo. We are finished."

I heard him suck in a breath. Then silence.

I thought he had left. But when I looked through the peephole, he was still there. His hands were balled into fists at his sides. His face was white.

Then he smashed his fist into the temple pillar at the entrance. Once. Twice. Three times. Divine power cracked the stone down the middle, and blood stained his knuckles.

He never laid a hand on me. He never threatened me. But after that day, the sight of me repulsed him.

If he saw me along the daffodil riverbanks, he turned around and walked the other way. If he passed by my home, his face would twist like he'd smelled something rotten. He stopped going to the Sacred Spring—the place where we had spent every summer evening since we were children, lying on the grass and watching the stars.

If someone mentioned my name in front of him, he shut them down cold.

"Why are we talking about Aria?" he would say, his voice flat and hard. "She makes me sick."

The day he left for the frozen north, I stood in the pouring rain to see him off one last time. I didn't go close. I stayed at the edge of the crowd, hoping he wouldn't notice me.

But he did.

He looked right at me. His eyes were empty. He reached into his tunic and pulled out the golden pendant I had given him, engraved with my name. He threw it at my feet. After that, he took the scroll of letters filled with every promise we had ever made each other and tore it to pieces, scattering them into the mud.

He gave me a grim, dark smile.

Then he turned and walked away without looking back.

So no. I hadn't expected him to come to my estate ever again.

But now, eight years later, he was standing outside.

My mother hadn't fully closed the door after Lady Leto left, and I could see him through the gap. He was holding Chloe's hand. She was beautiful, tall and golden, with the effortless confidence of a royal nymph.

"My lady," Apollo was saying to my mother. His voice was different now—deeper, colder, more controlled. "Are you still upset about what happened eight years ago? Is that why you won't let Aria help us prepare for the sacred rites?"

He paused. "Look, I don't have feelings for Aria anymore. I've moved on. We grew up together—if we cannot be united in divine marriage, we can at least be civil."

My mother didn't answer. Her face was stone.

Chloe stepped forward, smiling brightly. "Auntie, Apollo has told me everything about him and Aria. Sure, Aria betrayed him back when they were young. But we were all young once, right? He's forgiven her. It's ancient history."

She laughed—a light, tinkling sound. "Besides, I should thank her. If she hadn't betrayed Apollo, I never would have found him. He's the best thing that ever happened to me."

"So please, don't hold a grudge. It was actually my idea to have Aria help us. We've been away from the polis for eight years. We don't know the territory anymore. And Aria is our age—I trust her taste. She'll pick something beautiful for the divine ceremony, I'm sure."

Eight years ago, all I had wanted was for Apollo to forget me. To move on. To be happy.

But now, hearing him talk about the betrayal so calmly—like it was just a thing that happened, like it didn't still burn—and hearing that he had told his new bride everything about us, every detail of our life together... my chest still ached.

A dull, spreading pain. Like someone was pressing their thumb into a bruise.

My mother's face went red. Her lips trembled. I knew she was about to say something she would regret.

"Get out," she finally said. Her voice shook. "Both of you. Get out of my house."

Chloe's smile faltered. "My lady—"

"I said get out."

Apollo didn't move. He just stood there, looking past my mother, toward the hallway where my bedchamber was. Like he was trying to see through the walls.

I sat up in bed. My head spun for a moment. I took a breath, steadying myself.

"Mom," I called out. "Come help me into the chair. I want to talk to them."

There was a long silence. Then I heard my mother's footsteps, heavy and reluctant, coming toward my room.

She pushed the door open with wet eyes, but she didn't argue. She walked straight to the vanity, added a touch of color to my cheeks and lips, and neatly combed my hair. She knew what this meant to me.

"Thank you, Mom," I whispered.

She didn't answer. She just lifted me into the rolling chair and pushed me out the door.